A land of Sinners

10 - Prostituted Povery

"Let me guess," the man spoke leaned in the doorway, "you helped him rob that bank did you?" The three of us turned our heads towards the figure speaking to us, our faces looked like we just seen a ghost but light soon dawned on them. "I was there with you Adem," he spoke before leaning in to the group, "Dos Andres Banco." Adem felt a shiver down his spine, gripping his waist before looking up at the man, "Who even are you?" The three of us still look at the mysterious figure, soon he sat down with the bunch and addressed himself. "Larry Quinn."

"Nice to meet you Larry," Tommy shook his hand with a bright smile, "my name is Tommy!" The group no longer gave rude looks but a rather light one. Adem soon clearing his throat before hitting his chest as he coughed. "I appear to have forgotten something," Adem spoke before standing up, "I'll have to go get my medication." Then poof, he dashes out of the room but then Larry soon sat in his place. "Now that he's gone," his smirk is shown as he readjusted his hat, "why don't I share my side of the story?"

This was during the sand blizzard of Hiki, Makero. This was after the pillage of Natives as our sources was as scarce as the vegetation in the area. It was warm, but Baron. It was windy, but Dusty. It was about as close as you could get in Mexico in American Soil. I was a journalist for Makero, and I just so happens to be in the right place, at the wrong place.

What your friend didn't tell you was that John Wesley Hardin had given me a boat ride to Makero to work on journalism. All thanks to him for giving me this opportunity but I didn't think much of it at the time. The town had the essentials: a store, stable, poker, and fine women. I believe it was different here than anywhere else, aside from the bodies that were in wagons, I could see a lot of money to be made here. I was tasked to document the trains history for being as well trained a train could be. It didn't feel like being a journalist by writing down what goes in and out that train but decent money was made.

My trip was for a month, and I trusted the amount I have earned was enough to take me back home to Astanzo. Or perhaps take the train over there. Either way, I had to do what I was told and I felt happy doing it. Occasionally, the Mexican Army comes through in a Statewide manhunt for a bandit pretending to be in the army, big time guy named Black Terry. It was hard not to eavesdrop on the locals talking about the man, I can only assume his list of criminal activities to be beyond my writing capabilities. Soon, publishing a newsletter to the state about the public hearings of such a man.

I believe it was a choice that hurt me deeper than any wound I could image. Not even a bear can compare to the amount of pain I have experienced from that man. He's dangerous you know? I'm thankful to have outlived him. Even seeing you folks is something to be grateful for. It was horrible with what that man done.

The day of the robbery, I woken up in the downstairs of the hotel where I usually slept. My woman keeping me cozy and warm before calling me 'Pendejo,' which means Sweetheart. She was quite lovely, even if she hard a darker color I still loved her for who she was. She loved to keep her shackles on for me, like a good woman she was. All she knew was to love on me but I made sure she never left my room unless she had been real naughty. The kind of naughty that had her own body being shared with.

The day was quite odd, I felt a deep grudge in my groin as I stood in the middle of the dusty street in the morning. I felt my body away with the wind as dust covered me, it felt nice having nothing on but my manhood. But then I saw three figures erecting from the dust infront of me. My head didn't pay much attention other than opening my arms and legs like a dumbass. They get closer and closer to me as I suddenly stopped my freedom of choice. All I could do was stand there as nearby Pedestrians watched me is disgust.

I then saw Adem emerge from the dust along with two sombrero dudes with their guns in their hands. Next thing you know, Adem puts his arm around my neck as a smaller muzzle was placed to my back. I can sense panic in his breath, he was guiding me to the bank slowly. I complied with him, trying not to trip onto my pecker as the bank door would shut. The sombrero guys came to the door, kicking it down completely before I flinched. All I knew was that a gunshot rang out so loud from the inside, soon being thrown inside the bank.

"Come on, come on!" One of them shouted at me before handing me a stick of boom and white cloth. Other people was down on the ground, they was in shock and wearing bandannas as well, just to keep the dust out. Their eyes are bloodshot from dust before putting the gifted bandanna on. "Get in there Americano!" They shouted at me before running into the tellers desk, my eyes gazed upon the vault.

And let me tell you now, that vault looked intimidating to me. There was no way one stick of dynamite could blow this sucker open! My hands shook violently as I started to panic even worse than the morning. They were edging me closer and closer, I hade no choice but to move closer to the vault. It was huge, it was metal. Most importantly, it was black.

Alongside with Segregation, I planted my stick somewhat inside the vault and lit the fuse with the bottom of my boot. Who knew a match would light so easily from one's big boot. I can hear the sizzling of bacon on the vault. I smelled smoke from the fuse before I was manhandled out of the tellers desk. The people inside ran out of the bank as Adem stood by the door, he looked stressed before flinching upward at the two men in sombreros. "Stupido Americano!" They shouted followed by the boom of dynamite.

It was a shock at first as my ears rang, that's why I have my ears closed in cloth. I can feel the blood coming from my ears from how loud it was. Even Adem was in shock from the explosion. I was an innocent no longer. The two sombrero Men would rush into the vault before Adem held me close. It was as close as I could be with a man, holding hands with one another before the big man himself steps inside, Black Terry.

"Attention all," he spoke with his sidearm in the air, "ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery!" Thing was about Black Terry, they feared him so bad they would scream. The hostages were screaming at his presence before the sombrero men slammed a few of their faces into the floor. He was the type to put fear in those who dreamt of him. Including myself. It was like meeting Billy The Kid but under his foot.

Seeing how Black Terry and his bunch cooperated, I followed. Not to get shot or anything but to preserve my own image of being a journalist. I needed to get involved either way with the robbery to get a good story to the world. It was dishonest as hell, but it was above and beyond my expectations. I didn't need no paper at the moment to remember this moment. Or else I won't be here telling you all about it.

Inside that vault lie dineros, dollars but in Spanish. The group had little satchels that could stuff most of what was laid out. Some of the money was a bit crispy due to the dynamite I have planted. All I did was keep watch of them inside, to observe what they would do. Now I ain't the man to betray someone, but something quite strange happened that has hurt me beyond anything. But Black Terry looked at me before telling me, "Listen you," His aggression was present, "carry that load of cash straight to my horse now!"

He had a secondary Satchel for grabs before he threw the full one at me. Now I was carrying the cash. Now I was the one walking out the door. Now I was liable to be arrested and charged for their crime! What a fool I was, I should have just ran away when I was out of the building. I was too carried away with my journalistic integrity.

Just as I placed the bag onto his horse, the bunch came out in a rush. Sad thing about this town was the lack of law around here, but I recognized some of them being in the bank. The four got onto the horses before my wife comes running at me with her feet still shackled. She was screaming for my name and eventually tripped over on the ground. And in a blink of an eye, I see Black Terry gallop his horse at her before picking her up onto his horse. The last time I saw her was with him into the sunset with his bunch beside of him.

Losing my wife that day was horrible. She was obedient to me and overall a great girl to play with. But what hurt me even worse was after the bank robbery. I was in the room writing out what had happened that day before a letter came into the mail. It had only a To not a From. Upon opening this letter, I was in a state of pain that would leave most men dead.

"Your women is all nice and dandy,
Made her feel quite handy.
She lay in bed with us,
And didn't put much of a fuss.
They place their seed,
And done a better deed."

And that son of a bitch knew I hate rhymes.